Book Reviews

Book Review: A Million Little Pieces

My rating: 3 of 5 stars
I want to start this review out with the F word somehow because I probably read it at least a thousand times in this book. I kept telling myself I should quit because of the language and the questionable content but I was riveted as I was transported into a body that was experiencing detox and drug rehabilitation. I felt like every one of my 5 senses were awakened as this book was a chilling piece of fiction. I justified reading the questionable material because it was a part of the typical drug rehab center. The author did an amazing job of helping me to experience the touching, seeing, hearing, tasting, and smelling that druggies engage.

There is so much I could say about what I enjoyed about this book, but the ONLY real reason I kept reading was because I felt completely educated by each word found on the pages. I feel I can understand addicts of all kinds better now. I can love them better and judge them less. In fact, I found myself thinking of all the addicts I know and wishing I could give them a copy of this book. In the words of the author is found the precious key to combating addiction: getting in touch with your inner self and learning how to control your out of control emotions.

I know there is some controversy surrounding this book. In fact the librarian mentioned it when I checked the book out. She wouldn’t tell me WHAT exactly was the controversy, but I did glean some things during the course of reading the book. As I mentioned my reading it to friends, they said that the author James Frey had this book published as a piece of non-fiction, when it is very much fictional. I do have to say that it would be much more powerful if it was actually non-fiction, but the fact that it is untrue, does not completely rob the book in enlightening the reader about the workings of addiction. I plan to go and read everything I can about this controversy, but I wanted to write my review before I do, so that I won’t be tainted.

There were parts of the book that I didn’t like. I wish it could have been written with less offensive language; I don’t think it was absolutely necessary. I also don’t really agree with the author’s criticism of the 12 step program or his agnostic views. However, I did learn some things from the referenced Tao teachings and find those in sync with my religious views. I find myself adding the Tao book to my to read list. For some reason, A Million Little Pieces was a long read for me. I kept telling my husband that I didn’t know why it was taking me so long to get through it. I was interested and reading consistently, yet it still took me a good week and a half and I’m not really sure why.

Overall, I would recommend the book to anyone struggling with addiction or with an addict in their life. I would also refer it to anyone having an inner struggle learning about themselves. But, I would NEVER refer it to any of my Mormon friends, as they would probably suffer a heart attack from all the language.

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Book Review: Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet

Sheila asked if I am being paid to do book reviews and the answer is regrettably “no”. Although I will be sharing a book review next month on a book that was sent to me to review, so I guess technically I was paid in a free paperback.

LeGrand was so jealous that he offered to trade me my blog for his law practice. Because we are so poor, he was surprised when he had thought that I ordered a book to be shipped. I nonchalantly told him it had been sent to me to review on my blog. A day later he said, “Alice, I don’t think you know how cool it is that someone just sent you a free book to review on your blog!” I guess I don’t, but I do like it that my husband is jealous of me.

I have said it a million times that I would never want to be paid for my blog because I feel like it would force me to settle with expressing my true opinion and that would be tragic.

However, I have made it a goal to read more. I have completely quit watching T.V. and I am enjoying more reading at the especially perfect time of year: SUMMER.

I like to share my reviews because it forces me to take a moment

and reflect on each book to completely integrate into my life.

Take them or leave them. Better yet, read the books for yourself.

Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet by Jamie Ford

My rating: 4 of 5 stars
Besides being a quick read, this book was not only historically rich with a view into Seattle during times where Jazz was new and racism was old, but was also a touching story of first love and family ties. I gained an open window into the history of WWII, especially the shame that surrounds the American government imprisoning our own citizens solely because of their race.

I enjoyed the age old and overall theme of children who have to find their own way among their parents’ expectations, especially when the parents are sometimes wrong. Ford privileged us with two generations worth of intertwined plots. I normally don’t like books that time travel, but this book was done with such ease that it didn’t bother me at all. Reflection was an important part of this book and memories written as if you were there actually left me with an equal desire to read of the past and present.

Most of all, this book was a love story. I am sure that the overriding love themes are probably the real reason for the book’s popularity. Loyalty to love, loving your choice, the complexities of love and hopes between family members, and always remembering your first love are all the meat of the book. And of course, the most exciting theme of all is that it is never too late for love.

The only complaint I have for the book is the ending. I always struggle with the end of books. If I ever write a book, the end is going to be perfection because I am all about THE END. This end was good, but not prefect. At least it wasn’t a bad ending and that is hugely complimentary from me because I bet 80% of the books that I read have bad endings. Even if the author would have thrown in “and they lived happily ever after” it would have at least given me a little more closure;I am all about the closure, especially when it comes to fiction. When the closure has to be derived from my own imagination, I don’t like it; I want the author to dictate his own story, especially the end.

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Book Review: Cold Mountain

Cold Mountain by Charles Frazier

My rating: 3 of 5 stars
This book was a little racy for my taste, especially in the middle. There was a lot of inappropriate sexual content…at least for my pretty sheltered mind. I don’t tend to like the slow going pace, and this book was especially slow at first, but I am glad I persevered as the author did a good job of portraying the horrors of the Civil War. I guess slow going reading favors the period of time that the book depicts.

I saw into a window of the lives of backwoods people in The Appalachians, but a lot of the time it was a window that I would have liked to walk away from to pretend it was not there. I don’t like some of the oddities of the people portrayed, especially as a Tennesseean. It’s books like this that make some people think we are still all barefoot and pregnant living off the hog and our veggie gardens. I am sure much of what is talked about it true, but I just don’t like it…maybe that makes me a fool, but I would rather pretend stuff like incest doesn’t exist in the world as I know it. Sometimes I felt like I was reading an awkward story that was the frame for the awkward movie Oh Brother Where Art Thou.

I really enjoyed reading about the art of homesteading and the author’s beautiful and sometimes very detailed descriptions of nature, especially our own gorgeous Appalachian Mountains.

My favorite line by far was the old goat lady who said, “Marrying a woman for her beauty makes as much sense as eating a bird for it’s song.”

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Eric Carle

This will be a post without a picture because I would never ever dream of breaking the copyrights of Eric Carle. He is BY FAR my favorite artist, writer, and illustrator. You may be familiar with his work. Two of my favorites are Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What do you Hear? and The Very Hungry Caterpillar.

I was moved by this part of his autobiography in The Art of Eric Carle.

In 1935 I started school in Syracuse. I remember vividly a sun-filled room, large sheets of paper, colorful paints, and fat brushes. One day my mother was asked to see the teacher. Convinced that her son had misbehaved – why else would a parent be asked to come to the school? – she was immensely relieved to be told that her boy not only enjoyed drawing and painting but that he was good at it. It was impressed upon my mother that from now on she was to encourage and nurture this talent. This was advice she would honor for the rest of her life.

It struck me as I kept reading how this small experience of a teacher praising a talent in Kindergarten, totally and completely shaped the work of Eric Carle. His mother always encouraged him from that time forward and Eric remembered this as his initial moment of feeling talented.

I want to be the person who inspires others. I want to motivate by compliment. I want someone to do something great because I took a moment to notice something small. And what if I can multiply that by 100? And what if I multiplied that every day? And what if we all just tried to look for the good in each other? Would we all live a life that felt as nice and as happy and uplifting as any page of any book of Eric Carle?

To me, heaven couldn’t get much greater.

My Love

(LG and I – Dec 1997 – quite possibly my favorite photo in the world)

Oh the title makes me sing….”My love, there’s only you in my life, the only thing that’s right”.

Am I the only crazy person in the world who hears lyrics in my head on a daily basis?

Now that Valentine’s Day is over, I have had a whole half of a day to reflect.

On love.

Who knew it is so complicated?

I learned in therapy last week that I am really not the greatest at receiving love.

Try fixing that one. If you have success let me know.

I am a little worried that I am not going to be able to improve in the area and I’ll be left a non-loved hag.

Just call me Grinch, or Scrooge, or even Ornery Old Lady, Maxine.

So, as I told you before, LG and I have been trying to figure out ways to enhance our marriage.

I could tell you all of our baggage, but that seems to bring out some serious haters.

And I am trying to learn how to receive more LOVE not HATE.

So, let’s just say that 6 years ago when LG started law school, we hit a 6 year slump.

And we are trying to slowly dig our way out.

It takes individual and combined efforts.

It’s complicated and difficult.

And exhausting.

Thank goodness we have a therapist to throw us a line from time to time.

But, I have every reason to believe that we will come out on top.

Together.

Meanwhile, I am spending a lot of time reflecting.

Instead of blogging.

As you have all noticed.

(And I’ve been spending too much time on Facebook.)

One thing that was told to me on Facebook was to read a book.

The Five Love Languages

by Gary Chapman

I found a copy at the local and awesome used book store, McKay’s.

I didn’t want to wait behind 32 other people at the local library, so I forked over $7.

I had to search for the book.

It was finally found in the Christian section in the subsection High Demand.

Funny they had only two copies compared to several shelves of Bibles.

Now that’s a modern conundrum.

Can I now use my reading of The Five Love Languages as an additional argument for why Mormons are Christian too?

So, I have read a good twenty pages.

I am trying to decide my love language.

The choices are:

1- quality time

2- words of affirmation

3- gifts

4- acts of service

5- physical touch

The earth shattering gospel of the book is that every person has a love language that they understand.

Love languages are learned just as a native communicating language is learned.

If your spouse doesn’t show love to you in your language,

it’s as if a Chinese person who speaks no English is married to a Spanish person who speaks no Chinese.

Well, because my therapist says I am not good at receiving love.

Which I have come to believe is true.

I am wondering if I even have any love language at all.

LG and I were discussing this little worry of mine.

I was reminded of a little conversation we had recently.

I said, “I think I might have a little of the language of “gifts”.

A few weeks back I was telling LG that I had read a great article in Good Housekeeping about the art of the love letter.

I told LG he should read it.

He agreed that he should.

He was distracted at work on the phone.

I didn’t think he was listening to me.

I said, “Do you know what would be the best love letter for me?”

He said, “What?”

I said with all the confidence I could muster:

“The dishwasher is on it’s way.”

He was actually listening because he laughed.

Hard.

LG hasn’t bought into the idea that buying me things will make our marriage more loving.

He questioned last night how him bringing me things home from The Dollar Tree could really help our marriage.

I told him that he should try it and see.

And that I think it really would.

Help our marriage.

He said, ‘How does some random glass figurine make you know I love you?”

I reminded him that the first gift he ever gave me was a porcelain skunk.

And it has sat in a place of honor in our front room,

for the last twelve years.

He was silent.

As he pondered.

What he is going to buy me at the dollar tree.

Until he can afford the dishwasher.

And, my love language has been uncovered.

Now, we just have to figure out LG’s.

We think his might be words of affirmation.

He likes it when I tell him that he’s sexy.

I told him that spending $1 on something stupid is sexy.

Watch out therapist.

Gary Chapman is gonna steal your hardest clients.

Please, don’t ever argue that facebook isn’t good for a marriage.

Because although my therapist helped me to see that my love needed help in the receiving department.

A friend on facebook pointed me in the right direction.

So that I could see that I would most prefer to receive love,

in the form of a gift.

facebook

My brother Adam has been guilting me about it for over a year.

I had been a member about four years ago, but it was back in prehistoric times and wasn’t that exciting when it only included a couple of moms from church. (no offense to you moms)

So, I got a rare e-mail from a high school friend Shelly. She just had her first baby.

I wanted to comment on cute little Carlos. No, I NEEDED to comment. He is adorable and this mom HAD to tell that mom.

The next thing I know, I am SUCKED in. I mean, like I have been at my computer for two days straight. It’s a really good thing that I have a newborn to blame for my inproductivity! (Sorry honey…no dinner again…she’s just been so fussy all day)

Besides getting a sweet message from my first kiss, (If you are reading, you made my hubby cringe with your sweetness) (And LG, you know, I only have eyes for you!) I found another awesome find today.

BreezyMama

It’s a blog by two friends from High School. I loved this post by Chelsea about the Current Top 10 kids books. You all know how I love to read. And Where The Wild Things is my favorite of all time.

And on a sidenote. It’s amazing how after almost 20 years, you can still share so much in common with classmates. Does this sentence from their “about” page not just sound like I could have written it:

“They love being a mom but have no problem admitting it’s hard.”

Thoughts for the Twilight

So, I have been taking 5 minutes for reading here and there….mostly in the car while waiting in the car line for the kids. I have two pick-ups a day and so that gives me a little time.

I detested the first book from The Twilight Series, but I forged ahead. Unlike everyone else, I loved the second book. I am now reading the last one and am glad I persevered, and I so wish that I could stay up all night and read like I used to…can’t do it.

I was totally freaking out the other day when Alice and Jasper’s stories were told. They so remind me of LG and I. I am a total party crazy person. And LG is a Southern gentleman who has a very uncanny calming affect. I guess we must have met Stephenie Meyer before. She surely used us as her models for her characters!

I was pleased that I passed the test. Go and check it out you Twilight freaks.

I'm a Alice! I found out through TwilightersAnonymous.com. Which Twilight Female Are You? Take the quiz and find out!

Take the Quiz and Share Your Results!

You are intelligent, outgoing & stylish. A true girly girl, you love shopping & makeovers.

Although you are a generous friend, you can be coy, tricky & very persuasive in order to

get your way. You are known to zone out occasionally during conversations, but your

friends forgive you because you are understanding, supportive & know how to throw one

heck of a party!

The Golden Girls…

….we look as unlike a famous Rock Band since The Chipmunks .

But hey, if they can do it, so can we.

We absolutely cannot resist the chance to play a little Rock Band when we see it set up at Sams.

It does not matter how much shopping we have on our list or how close it is to bedtime.

We just know that those Sam’s Club employees set that equipment up for us.

We would not want to disappoint.

If only we could afford to bring one home.

But, of course, if we bought the game Rock Band,

we would then have to add a Nintendo 360,

and then we would need the big screen TV,

and then after we got it set up,

but before we could play,

we we would have to go back down to Sams

and get some onlookers to come home with us.

You just can’t be a Rock Band without some groupies.

(this is starting to sound like the book: If You Give A Mouse A Cookie)

And, everyone would come from far far away to see the Gold’s play.

They would not be able to resist our talent or our charm.

And, I don’t care if the game thinks that we are failures.

We all know that these electronic games come with programming glitches.

"You’re supposed to"

Last week we took the kids to window toy shop at Target. While I was chatting with a lady from our church, LG stopped at the books with the girls. Bella kept requesting LG to read from different books. At one point LeGrand told Bella to hold on. He was attending to Abigail or Sophia. Bella chimed out in a way that was bound to be noticed, “Dad, it says on the TV you are supposed to read to your children.” Classic.

Tippery

The Hungry Leprachaun

Abigail is obsessed with things from Ireland. Her Kindergarten teacher has turned her into a leprachaun lover by telling her story after story about her trip to Ireland. Last year, all that Abigail wanted from Santa was a leprachacun. Poor Santa had to shop on e-bay to find one, only for LG to say that Abigail was going to be disappointed that it wasn’t a real living leprachaun. (Santa isn’t that good) The obsession is so strong that I was teasing Abigail’s teacher today that I would come and hunt her down if Abigail ever decides to convert to Catholicism, just so that she can be more like the Irish.

About a month back, when the kids and I were at the school library on Terrific Thursday, I pulled a book from the shelf that I knew Abigail would love, The Hungry Leprachaun. (It is out of print so there is no need to link to it) Abigail humored her father a few days later by repeating the story word for word.

Well, this week is National Reading Week. On Wednesday the children at Abigail’s school were allowed to wear a costume that depicted their favorite storybook character. I tried to convince Abigail to dress up with something we had in the dress up box. Laura Ingalls, Professor McGonagall, even Pippi Longstocking would not do the trick. She only wanted to be Tippery, the hungry leprachaun.

On Tuesday night, we made a trip to Wal-Mart to buy the leprachaun hat. Abigail thought that Tippery wore green pants and a purple shirt. I figured that we could dig up a purple shirt somewhere.

On the way home, there was some confusion as to what Tippery did wear exactly. I, being the overzealous perfectionist that I am decided to stop in at the school. I ran up the library hoping that Mrs. McGee could help. The library was locked.

I then became desperate and did the unmentionable, I made sure no one was looking and I snuck into Abigail’s classroom to take a look at the book. To my relief, I made it in and back out to the car with no one catching me.

The rest of the evening I was stuck coming up with The Hungry Leprachaun costume. I tell you, mothers do a little of everything. On Tuesday night, you would have thought that I was the seamstress. I found some leftover material and elastic and sewed the elf looking hat. I dug through drawers for the purple pants, purple socks and green shirt and spent the rest of the night nicking and tucking.

As I dropped Abigail off at school the next morning, she looked just like a leprachaun. When the Safety Kid told me that she looked cute, Abigail turned her head back at me with a satisfied look. I can’t quite place what it looked like but it was a mix between her dad’s goofy smirk and a leprachaun’s smile.

Indeed, I am a good mom. Even if she converts to Catholicism I will still love her just the same.